


Love Bleeds From the Heart

by devilsduplicity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-18
Updated: 2010-04-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:23:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilsduplicity/pseuds/devilsduplicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean have fun sexy times!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Bleeds From the Heart

Love Bleeds From the Heart

**Who:** Sam/Dean  
 **What:** Blatant porn. Written for [](http://magical-face.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://magical-face.livejournal.com/)**magical_face**. Sam and Dean have fun sexy times!  
 **When:** Any time you wish. This isn't really dependent on any particular point in the series.  
 **Word Count:** 2,905  
 **Warnings:** R; porn, language, sexuality, porn, dirty words, lots of snark, porn, some fluff, and-- hey, did I mention porn?  


 

**Love Bleeds From the Heart**

 

 

 

Ohgod. Ohgodohgod _ohgod_.

He was going to die. He was going to fucking _die_ , and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

"Down," he said, his voice gruff and his words thick. "Lower, right-- _right there_."

"Dean," came a hesitant voice, just as lust-ridden but twice as calm, far more nervous. "Dean, we shouldn't--"

"If you stop, I swear I'll kill you," came Dean's quick reply, the threat punctuated by the way he thrust insistently into the hand wrapped around his erection. The slow slide of skin against skin increased.

"But--"

"But what?" the hunter bit out, grinding his teeth together to hold back the moan threatening to tear from his throat. No one's hand should feel that hot -- no one's fingers should fit so perfectly around a desire that ached so damn much, it nearly unhinged him. "We'll go to hell?" He laughed. "Been there, done that."

"Dean--"

But the voice stopped and the pace quickened and even though Dean had his eyes screwed shut, he could feel the fleeting whisper of warm breath ghosting across the top of his cock, and he wanted nothing more than to feel something slick and wet slide all around him.

"C'mon," he said, jutting upwards, lifting his hips off the bed. "Betcha can't take the whole thing down."

"... You really think that makes it sound more appealing?"

"You've always been a sucker for a challenge."

"Deepthroating my brother's dick isn't a regional sport, sorry."

"Aww, c'mon Sammy. With your drive and determination, I'm sure you can get it in the record books."

Sam glared, and Dean might have at least had the good grace to gulp if he wasn't so fucking _hard_.

"Sammy," he said again, then propped himself up on his elbows and gave his brother _that look_. The one that said 'please' and 'thank you' and 'I need it' and 'I'm not gonna fucking beg, bitch' -- the one that said a thousand things when all it asked for was just _one_.

"What do you want, Dean?"

Sam was a cruel, vicious, vindictive person who needed to go die in a fire, 'kay? Thanks.

Dean groaned and let his head fall back against the bed.

The younger Winchester smirked. "Use your words."

"Fuck you."

"Not with that attitude."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

And then Sam's tongue snuck out and slid teasingly across the side of Dean's shaft; something light and feathery and more cruel than satiating, and it drove the older hunter into a frenzy. He shifted his hips up and down, trying to relieve the pressure that was steadily building from the base of his spine. Sam got the message, let the fingers that still rested gently along the base of Dean's erection start moving in a steady pumping motion, then peeked his tongue out once again and swirled it around the tip of his brother's cock.

Dean was the one in charge when they worked, but Sam held power in the bedroom.

" _Fuck_ ," Dean hissed, pressing his head deeper into the mattress. He clung to the sheets, trying to find some sort of purchase when Sam sped up, but found that to be utterly futile. He was about to crawl out of his fucking _skin_ here; about to stick to the ceiling and writhe out the impressive itch that threatened to drive him absolutely crazy. " _God_ , Sam, your mouth is _insane_."

"Hm," Sam hummed beneath his breath, staving off the swell of pleasure Dean's simple compliment gave him.

"You never told me what you wanted, Dean."

Dean didn't answer, only kept pumping, so Sam thought it completely fair to let go of his brother's dick entirely and slide away from the bed. They were both clothed, for the most part; Dean's pants were pushed messily down his hips, and Sam had only gotten around to unzipping his jeans before they'd both tumbled onto the cheap motel bed and started tousling around with each other.

"How about you stop this sex kitten stuff, and get down to business?"

"Sex... kitten...?"

Sam almost laughed.

Almost.

"Dean, are you on crack?"

"No," the other bit out.

"Meth?"

"No!"

"... Just really, really drunk?"

"For the love of God, Sammy," Dean exploded. "Get your ass over here and _suck my cock_."

Sam blinked.

"Well, when you put it like that," he began, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, but one good look at his brother told him that Dean wasn't messing around. He was desperate. His pupils were dilated and his breath came in ragged gasps and his dick stuck up from between the layers of his clothing and if he didn't find some kind of release soon he was going to _kill something_.

"Fine," he said breathlessly, then did a little number that had Dean's body clenching with desire; hands splayed out along the sheets, open and large, his knee pressing along the edge of the bed while he shifted closer, slid like a snake, up and up and up until he was kneeling right in front of his brother's body.

"Spread your legs."

Dean swallowed thickly, and did as told.

Sam was a predator. He was an animal of pleasure, every line bending to desire, every sinew and muscle pushing and pulling towards a euphoric end. He watched, sought, and analyzed every detail, every expression, tucked the information away in that encyclopedia mind of his. Like how Dean always seemed to shudder when he pressed his tongue flat against the head of the other's cock, got it all nice and wet, then pulled back just enough to blow cool air on it. Like the desperate moans and soft cries of ' _yes Sammy please more_ ' when he wrapped his lips around his brother's dick and let it slide to the very back of his mouth. Each gasp and groan and whimper when his tongue worked him over, when the vein along the bottom was caressed with burning velvet and the quivering tip was sucked closer and closer to arching release every time Sam swallowed.

"Unnn, god," Dean moaned when Sam cut the crap and started to actually apply a steady sucking pressure. His fingers, which could find no purchase in the bedsheets, rose to splay in messy brown hair. "Fuck, keep at it."

Was it wrong to think that his brother gave the best damn blowjob in the entire fucking world?

Probably, yeah.

Good thing Dean didn't give a damn.

" _Shit_ , Sammy," Dean hissed when Sam hit a particularly sensitive spot and his hips started to rise and fall as a result. "Have you been practicin' while I've been asleep, or somethin'?" He continued to thrust his pelvis upwards, felt the impact of his brother's knuckles brush forcibly against his balls with every forward push. The pace quickened.

Sam merely moaned, let his lips secure themselves snugly around Dean's girth, then carefully pried his hand away. He pleasured his brother with his mouth, bobbed his head up and down in quick, jerky motions, then pulled back until only the tip remained between his lips and started scraping his tongue all around the little slit at the very top.

"You like that?" he asked when he pulled back for breath.

Dean was so filled to the brim with pleasure, he didn't even have enough room for snark.

"Nnngg, _yeah_."

He ground up, insisting Sam put his pretty little mouth right back on his dick.

"How much?" Sam said instead, sliding his large hands up and down Dean's jean-clad thighs.

"... The fuck d'you mean 'how mu-- _ohhh , shit_."

His incredulous declaration was cut off when Sam's mouth wrapped around the head of his cock and started to suck again.

"Fuck yeah, Sammy," he groaned, pushing his brother's head down on his dick. "You gonna take it all?"

With the way another few inches slid down his throat, it seemed he was gonna damn well _try_.

Dean was losing it. He kept thrusting up even as his palms pressed Sam down, and the only response he got from his little brother were the moans of satisfaction that came when another inch or two was swallowed down his tight, wet throat.

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ," the older Winchester said in a beating mantra, then glanced down to watch his cock slide in and out of Sam's mouth. It was unbelievable, really, but the steady coil of nerves that shifted in his stomach was far too real to mistake for fantasy.

"Keep this up and I'm gonna fuckin' explode," he warned, but that only granted him an even more exuberant performance when Sam growled -- outright fucking _growled_ \-- around his dick. The vibrations unhinged him, and the sheer bestial quality of his brother's hazy desire nearly broke him clean in two.

Dean thrust up, suspended himself in the air, and Sam wrapped both his hands around his brother's hips and pulled him closer.

"Ooohhh _god_ ," Dean cried when he felt Sam's lips envelop the very base of his cock, when he felt hot breath and a slick, wry tongue sneak out and slather down the skin of his sack. "Ohgod, your fucking _throat_." He thrust upwards, couldn't help it, couldn't control himself, wanted to be closer even though Sam had pretty much ensured they were as close as they could get.

"Sam, don't--"

The sucking continued.

"Sam, I need--"

That wicked tongue smoothed along the underside of his enveloped shaft.

"Sam, I'm gonna--"

Everything was flames and fire and coils of heat, and though it seemed reminiscent of Hell, it felt like sheer, unadulterated _Heaven_. Sam sucked harder, pulled back until only the very tip of Dean's cock remained in his mouth, then twirled his tongue around the slit, veritably begging for his brother to _fucking come already_.

"Um, umm, _yeah_ ," Dean snarled, his voice dropping to a bass note. "Here it comes, Sammy." His hips thrashed upwards, used Sam's mouth for his own pleasure because he was too far gone to think of anything else. ".... Here it comes... _mmm_... god _yes_...  unn. Take it all, Sam.... _fuck_ your mouth is so fucking _perfect_." He continued to thrust, kept driving his cock between Sam's lips because Sam hadn't bothered to let up yet, even through the slick feeling of Dean releasing inside his mouth.

Dean was driven out of his mind when his orgasm hit, taking hold of every sane action. His body clenched, rose up; his pulse quickened and throbbed with every sticky spurt that splashed against the inside of Sam's throat. He couldn't keep his fingers from wrapping around the softness of his brother's hair, couldn't help but cradle Sam's head and pull him closer, feel the other's forehead crash against his abdomen as he continued to thrust his dick steadily in and out of his brother's mouth. Sam, for his part, never let up; kept swallowing and sucking and pressing closer. His tongue lavished Dean's cock even as he felt the swelling go down, didn't stop even when Dean was completely spent and lying back against the bed. He twitched, over-stimulated, and pushed Sam's head away.

When his breathing finally evened out and he could _see_ again -- oh, right, his eyes had been closed -- Dean glanced down to find Sam staring at him with a positively predatory look.

"Um," he said, then swallowed thickly. "Hi?"

Sam grinned, but it looked dark.

"Lay on your side."

"Not sure I can move right now, actually."

The younger hunter stepped off of the bed for a moment, then unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them off of his hips. His boxers trailed behind, and when he turned around, Dean swallowed thickly at the sight of his little brother's erection.

"On your side," Sam said again, a notch lower, and despite the fact that, yeah, Dean wanted to _falcon punch Sammy in the face_ for commanding him to do something, the older Winchester honestly couldn't help but gulp and turn around as ordered.

"If you stick that thing up my ass," he bit back. "I'm gonna stick my fist up yours."

"Relax," Sam said, then bent over and yanked Dean's pants down off his hips.

" _Hey_ \--"

"Oh, stop whining."

"If you're planning on ass-fucking me, then I'm pretty damn sure I'm _entitled_ to whine."

There wasn't much of anything Sam could say to that, so he merely huffed out a bright laugh and crawled into the bed behind Dean, curling around behind him like some large, massive blanket. A tick of time passed where nothing was said and all seemed relatively peaceful, but with Dean in the room, that didn't last long.

"Sam, are we _cuddling?_ "

"Yep."

"...... Why?"

"Because I want to."

Several breaths of silence, and then:

"Why do _I_ have to be the little spoon?" Dean sounded petulant.

Sam only laughed. "You're tiny."

"I'm not tiny; you're Goliath."

"Well, Goliath says _shut up_."

Dean grumbled, then shifted around a little.

"Can you be still for five seconds?" Sam complained, repositioning the arms he had wrapped around his brother's waist.

"It's kinda hard when your _raging hardon_ is digging into my spine."

"If you wanna do something about it, be my guest."

"No thanks," Dean said, but when Sam thrust his hips forward and smoothed his erection along his brother's backside, the eldest couldn't help but let out a low moan.

.... What? It felt sexy, so sue him.

"Find something else you like?" Sam teased.

"Shut up," Dean growled back.

He almost squirmed away out of spite, but Sam's incisors pressing insistently against his neck kept him from moving too far.

"Where do you think you're going?" the younger Winchester asked, and Dean resigned himself to this cripplingly feminine bout of 'happy special cuddle times'.

Which happened to not be so cripplingly female, all things considered, when an outie was pressing into his ass as opposed to an innie hugging his thigh.

Ah, the intricate delicacies of the penis and the vagina.

Sam moved this time, and Dean nearly bolted at the alien sensation of something hard sliding up his back end. He tolerated it, though; had been for a while now. Yeah, they played around every now and then, but they'd actually only ever gone all the way on Sam's end -- Dean's lips twisted in an amused smirk at the thought of that pun-laced thought. Dean himself hadn't had the... ah... _pleasure_... of experiencing something hard ramming up his--

Okay. His thoughts were getting too graphic for his own tastes. Time to move on.

"You need a hand with that, Sammy?" he ventured, recovering slightly from his earlier sense of bonelessness.

"Nah, I think I've got it," Sam said against Dean's ear, breath warm and voice playful, and then without warning he thrust forward. His cock slid up the smooth skin of Dean's rear just as teasingly as his voice had slid across brunette locks of hair, and the only thing keeping Dean from falling off the bed then and there was the fact that Sam's arms were still wrapped tightly around his brother's waist.

" _Sam_ ," Dean said in warning.

"Relax," Sam said in reply, then smoothed his hands along Dean's stomach and stroked the fabric of his shirt. "I'm not gonna do anything, okay? Not tonight."

The older Winchester shuddered, fought against the intense urge to elbow Sam in the face and run away, then finally let his limbs unfurl and loosen in his brother's grasp. Trusting. Dependent. He nodded once, sharply, and Sam continued with his previous action, setting a steady pace.

So, okay. Technically, _technically_ , Sam was just humping Dean's ass like a horny dog, but the act itself, the way Sam enveloped him, guarded him, pressed every inch of himself against Dean; the way the motions rocked back and forth, and how their heartbeats stuttered and slammed in their chests, beat separately, smoothed out and found a rhythm that tied them together in careful little knots; the press and slide of skin against skin, the heat of it, the slickness from Sam's arousal and the light flush that came across Dean's body at the thought that his little brother was already _so fucking hot for him_ ; the panted breaths and whispered moans, the completion, the stride and strive for something deep and warm and pleasant and overbearing and _ohgod_ , Dean couldn't help but thrust back against him and add friction to the madness.

It didn't take long for Sam to reach his climax, and as opposed to Dean's nearly violent display from earlier, Sam tipped over the edge with the lightest of moans and the softest of kisses to the nape of his brother's neck. He finished, pressed their lowers halves together, sticky and dirty from their activities, but both were far too tired to give the matter much care. The kisses continued, light and sweet and comforting, and even though Dean wasn't really into all that lovey-dovey crap...

... It was _Sam_.

And with Sam, there were no rules. There were no guidelines and no inhibitions.

It was Sam that held him as they both drifted off to sleep.

It was Sam who flit in and out of his half-dazed dreams, all smiles and pleasantries, soft hands and big palms.

And if ever there was a man he could say he truly loved, well.

It was Sam.

 

**~*~*~*~  
END  
~*~*~*~**


End file.
